


I Wanna Be 16 Forever

by Sourstarbursts



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 70s AU ish, Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, lots of grease references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 09:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14829371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sourstarbursts/pseuds/Sourstarbursts
Summary: Bucky is in love with his best friend, he’s also stupid and dramatic.





	I Wanna Be 16 Forever

1979

The moon shines through my open window, illuminating my bed, casting a silver wash over me. Its half way through summer now, making my room especially hot and stuffy, it doesn't help the fact that the air conditioner in my room hasn't worked for years. I lay on top of my covers, one leg folded over the other as I stare blankly at the wall. I don't want to admit it, but I am eagerly waiting for what is to happen next.

It's been happening for over three months now. Well years really. My best friend Steve has always came into my room at night, ever since first grade when his family of a mom, dad, and himself, moved into the house right next to us, when we instantly became best friends. 

I turn onto my side gazing at the window. I always leave it unlocked for Steve. At 11 pm every night, he sneaks out of his house, climbs the tree right next to my window, and comes into my room. Most nights we lay on my floor, talking about everything but nothing at all, not really listening to what either of us are saying, but just enjoying the company of one another. The calm feeling of having the other near.

Some nights Steve comes with a book, usually a thick novel about history. A book about anything from the American revolution to Russian czars. He’ll lean against my bed sitting up, the soft glow of my bedside lamp making his reading glasses glimmer. I'll lay my head in his lap and he idly plays with my hair in one hand and holds the book in the other. I love these nights, the hum of his voice drifting me to sleep, but the excitement in the words he reads makes my heart soar. Soar with the thought of how much I adore my friend and everything he does.

But, the recent development in what we do at 11 pm might become a close second to those nights Steve reads to me.

It started the night that tenth grade had ended. We were both relieved and giggly with excitement. Relieved that the stress of school will be put on hold, until the summer time ends and the air starts getting colder and the months left of summer turns into weeks, turns into days, turns into hours. Excited that now we are both eleventh graders, slowly inching to the days where we are adults, slowly inching to the days where we are twenty-one, the days we don't have to buy our alcohol from our friend Alexander’s older brother.

Illegally bought alcohol also plays a part in the recent developments in the list of activities Steve and I partake in when he comes into my room at 11 pm.

I tell my mother I love her and proceed to kiss her on the cheek goodnight. I leave the living room to my room. After brushing my teeth and changing into my pajamas. I lay on my bed and await for the knock on the window. I had bought the alcohol the previous night, a bottle of warm fireball now sat in the last drawer of my desk. I decide to get it ready for Steve and I. As I open the bottle and got two plastic cups from my drawer I hear the knock on my window. I grinned from ear to ear as I turn around and meet Steve’s eyes. His hair tousled and a leaf sticking out from his t shirt.

I cross the room and open the window for him; I help him into my room. He pants heavy breaths from all the effort he put into climbing the tree. You would think that after all these years of climbing the big oak tree, hed get better at it. But most nights he ends up falling out of it a few times before succeeding in getting onto the roof. His pants soon turn into wheezes and I rush to grab his inhaler from my desk. He thanks me as he holds it to his mouth and inhales.

I laugh to myself, and turn around to grab the drinks. Steve’s eyes light up in delight, he shoves the inhaler in his slacks back pocket and snatches the red cup glossy cup from my hand. 

“Fuck yes.” Steve moves the rim to his lips.  
“Ah, ah, ah! Not yet. We haven't done cheers yet.” I stop him.  
He brings it back down, smirking at me.  
“Cheers?” He asks me.  
“Cheers. We are celebrating tonight and cheers are a requirement for celebrations.”  
“Since when?”  
“Since always. Have you never seen a movie other then Grease or paid attention at family gatherings?”  
“Shut up just do the ‘cheers’ already, stupid.” He rolls his eyes smiling fondly up at me.

It's crazy how the tiniest gestures he does make my heart ache. How this 5 foot 6 inch blond boy, filled to the brim with mischievousness and courage makes my knees buckle at the thought. How this boy I have known ever since I could remember, makes me feel these things that I can't describe, things I refuse to describe, things I will never describe. It baffles me that I didn't see this coming, or at least not as soon as it did.

I lead him towards my bed. We sit crossed legged on top of my duvet across from each other. I hold up my cup towards him, as I prepare to speak. He watches and waits.

“A cheers to us, James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers. For graduating from the tenth grade into the eleventh, we have worked hard. And we deserve this drink you and I.”  
“Oh yeah? And why do we deserve it?”  
“You aren't supposed to speak when someone is doing cheers, stupid.”  
He rolls his eyes for the second time tonight, and most definitely not the last. He puts up his cup, and we slam our them together, it makes a dull ‘thump’ and then we throw the cups back taking a big swig of the bitter, disgusting liquid.

It feels warm in my chest as it goes down. I put down the cup in my lap smiling as I watch as Steve continues to drink. His lips around the white rim, the bob of his Adam's apple, his closed eyes, the way his eyelashes rest on the top of his cheeks. I don't realize how long I must be staring at him for until his voice snaps me out of the lost daze I find myself in.

“Buck?” He watches me with a confused smile on his lips.  
“Huh?”   
I blink a couple of times then look down, embarrassed over the fact I had been caught. I pick up my cup then drink again, washing down my red-faced humiliation.

This goes on for an hour, us sitting and drinking, then talking, and drinking again. We wind up laying on our backs on my carpeted floor. We are drunk as drunk can be. 

Steve is off on some tangent about some senior he is glad we won't be seeing next year. His speech slurred and vocabulary is down to its very basics. He's cute like this, drunken me decides. His flushed face and dilated pupils.

I shift onto my side to get a better look at my friend. My head resting on my hand and I listen to him babble on and on.

He pauses and turns onto his side. We lock eyes, he goes to speak a few times but decides against it, opting to watching me instead of speaking.  
I smile at him, his expressionless face breaks into an ear splitting grin, teeth and all. He laughs boldly, like my face is the funniest thing he has ever seen in his entire life, hell, it probably is. He laughs so hard he falls onto his back again, clutching his stomach.

“What?” I giggled, even him laughing at me makes me fond. Again, I wonder how I didn't see this coming sooner.  
“It's nothing! It's nothing!” He assures me in between hearty laughs.  
“What? Tell me!”  
“It's I was just,” he pauses and inhales sharply, “I was just thinking, you look at me like Danny looks at Sandy.” He says, like it's the funniest thing in the world.

My smile quickly vanishes. I say nothing as I lay back down. What he said triggered some realization in me, how I'm feeling, how I'm feeling towards him, and how my feelings seem to him. 

It's true, I do look at Steve like some love sick fool, like a guy in love with the prettiest dame in the world. Like he's the one that I want (oo, oo, oo honey), that’s he’s the only one I’ll ever want. And that's funny to Steve. I don't know what I expected.

“Buck?” He asks me after a few minutes of silence.  
“What?” I ask him coldly in return, I don't even mean it to come out as harsh as it does, but it does, and that makes Steve worry even more.  
“I- What's wrong, Bucky?”  
“Nothing's wrong.”  
“I wasn't trying to make you feel bad, if that's what you think because I really wasn't.”   
“I know you weren't, Stevie.” I sigh.

Moments pass, I feel his eyes burning into me with concern, I try to not look back. In those moments Steve comes to a realization, he sits up in surprise.

“Wait. Do you…” He trails off.  
I scoff and fold my arms, looking anywhere but at him.  
“Bucky, do you-”  
“Yes alright! Will you shut up already, or just leave. I want to go to bed.”  
I stand up and walk towards my bed, Steve follows behind me. I undo my tucked covers until he stops me.  
“Buck.”

I turn around to face him. He's staring up at me, eyebrows knitted together. He says nothing, and neither do I. I can almost see the gears in his head turning, piecing together everything. Every gaze we've shared, every touch, every night we've spent together. He knows now, and so do I. I stand there and do nothing. My mind repeating over and over, ‘Take me or leave me, Steve. Take me or. Leave. Me.’

He inches towards me. Small, delicate hands reaching up onto my arms. He stands on the tips of his toes. He takes me.

Closing his eyes, he leans in, my eyes droop and my entire body shifts from rigid even defense into goo. I melt into him. My lips crash against his. I wrap my arms around him, leaning down into him and holding the small of his back. My eyebrows furrowed together as I kiss him. I kiss him, I kiss him, I kiss him.

Steve kisses languidly, but with every fiber of passion in his heart. He kisses like no one I have ever kissed before. It’s sloppy, it’s messy, but it’s the best kiss I have ever had. Because it’s Steve. Anything involving Steve is the best thing ever. His mouth tastes like the bitter liquor and his lips are chapped and dry but it’s the best thing ever.

 

And that brings me back to tonight. This, whatever this is really, has been going on for two months now, two months and 5 days to be exact. Steve will stumble into my bedroom and not even after seconds of saying our hellos, will slam his lips against mine. 

We make out for hours on my bed, he sits on my lap and runs his fingers through my hair, tugging at my short locks. I wrap him in my arms as I kiss him back, and I never want to let go. I want to stay here forever in my room, with him in my lap kissing me. I wanna stay 16 forever. I want 1979, the summer of 1979, to never end. I want to be together forever, even though I’m not sure what ‘together’ really is. 

My once excitement for the night turns into anxiety. Does Steve want me the way I want him? Does he just want to kiss me? Does he want to go to movies with me and hold my hand? I’m not sure, and that’s what I hate about this. I hate that I don’t know what ‘this’ is and I hate that Steve won’t clarify that for me. 

I never thought I could ever hate anything about Steve. Even with all the fights he gets himself into, I don’t really hate it, even if I may act like it. Because I love Steve’s righteousness and his bravery. But I hate this. I hate having him right close next to me but feeling like I’m oceans apart. I hate kissing him, with every bit of love inside me, and not knowing if he feels the same as I do. I hate-

I hear the familiar knock on my window. I jump at the sound and get up from my bed; I stare at Steve through the dirty window. He smiles at me and I make no effort of returning it to him.

I pull open the window and Steve puts his hand out for me to pull him inside. I grip his hand tightly and bring him in. He pats at his clothes, wiping off any dirt or leaves from the tree. 

“Hey Buck.” He says to me, wraps his arms around my neck and brings his face down to eye level with him. Any other night I would have softened at this, I would have instantly kissed him voraciously. But tonight that feels wrong.

He sighs and kisses me. And it does feel wrong. My mind races with thoughts of how he doesn’t want me, not the way that I want him. My mind whirling with anxiety I push him away. I take his shoulders into my hands and forcefully detach him from me. The sad expression in his eyes makes my heart ache. I don’t want to hurt him. Ever. But, I don’t want him to hurt me either. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, unease dripping from his voice.   
“I-...” I start, I don’t know how to say it, how I feel, how I voice my concerns. To be honest I’m embarrassed.   
“Bucky. What’s wrong? Tell me.” 

I say nothing; I just stare at him blankly, I want to speak but nothing comes out. 

“Seriously. Tell me what’s wrong. Now.” He turns stern. Eyes narrowing at me. 

“I- I don’t know how to say it”  
“Just say it.”  
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”  
“You won’t. I promise. Just say it.”  
“I-...”

He’s angry now, or annoyed at least. This makes me even more nervous, he can tell. His facial expressions soften and he puts his hands on my shoulders, rubbing them slowly. 

“Nothing you could say would ever make uncomfortable or weirded out or whatever dumb idea your mind has come up with. I pinky promise. Please just tell me.” 

“I love you.” I blurt out. “I love you and I want to be with you. Like Rizzo and Kenickie, like Frenchy and Doody, like Danny and Sandy. I love you like that, more than kissing. I wanna be your guy. I want you to wear my shirts; I want everything with you. I want more than this.” I tell him in a rush, stumbling over my words. 

He stares at me, not saying anything. And that’s when I knew I blew it. I blew every single chance I had with him. I blew our friendship, I blew whatever ‘this’ was, I blew everything. My heart sinks to the bottom of my stomach as I accept defeat, as I accept ruining the only love I had ever known.

And then he laughs. 

Bright, bubbly giggles come out of him. Eyes scrunched up and he leans his head against my shoulder.

“Wha-“   
“You really had me scared there for a second, Buck! Oh my god you are so stupid, you big fucking ball of stupid.”   
“Wha-“  
“I love you too! How could you not know that?” He asks me in amusement. 

I’m at a loss for words, processing everything Steve just said. I stare at him blankly my mouth gaping open. He closes my jaw with his hand then kisses me, smacking our lips together making a ‘mwah!’ sound. He pulls back and giggles lightly. He let’s go of me and walks towards my bed.

“God Buck, if you wanted me to wear your shirt so badly you could've just asked.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is cheesy and dumb and what not lol!
> 
> Follow my tumblr if u want!: skinnybuckybarnes


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